


safe and warm (and he thinks he understands)

by privateerwrites



Series: These lines aren't wrinkles [2]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aramis has asthma, Couch Cuddles, Jewish Porthos, Multi, basically just them all being soft, but it's not mentioned or brought up here it's just True
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/privateerwrites/pseuds/privateerwrites
Summary: Set a couple of months after "tonight isn't a rarity (but he'll be fine)", d'Artagnan spends his first Friday at home living with them all. They celebrate Shabbat, and d'Art falls a little more in love with them all than he thought possible. [no need to read "tonight isn't a rarity" to understand this one]
Relationships: Aramis | René d'Herblay/d'Artagnan/Athos | Comte de la Fère/Porthos du Vallon
Series: These lines aren't wrinkles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084148
Comments: 18
Kudos: 35





	safe and warm (and he thinks he understands)

There are things one comes to learn about a person when one loves them- the sort of flowers they love, the colors they enjoy, their favorite movie to watch when they are sick, who their first cartoon crush was, the look on their face when they cannot say what they mean but also cannot help but say it; in other words, the sort of things that mean everything in the world. 

D'Artagnan has come to learn more of these about his boyfriends in the last 6 days of living with them than he had in any other stretch of time. He learns, for instance, that Athos loves listening to The Scarlet Pimpernel when cleaning. He learns that Aramis collects classics, but only the ones that he and Athos love- _after all,_ he says, _what's the point in owning a book you won't read?_ He learns that Porthos keeps the freezer stocked with pistachio ice cream for Aramis, and that Athos buys French pastries for Porthos when he gets take-out. 

This is, he has decided, one of his favorite things about living with them. All of the little things that make up a person are things he is slowly being allowed to learn, and he adores this with all his heart. He cried a little, that first night, surrounded by it all. Aramis rubbed his back, and Porthos let him sob into his shirt, and Athos brought him a glass of water and some Twizzlers when he was done crying. (It had been a lie, he wasn't done crying, because when Athos brought him the water and the Twizzlers, he cried for another ten minutes.) 

He's a little more used to it, on day six, and so when he wakes up on Friday morning to a kiss on the cheek from Aramis and a warm smile with a mug of coffee in Athos' outstretched hand, he basks in it instead of clinging to them both desperately and declaring his love for them over and over again. Porthos tugs d'Artagnan closer in bed until Aramis leans over and gives him a kiss, too. This signals, as d'Artagnan has learned, that Porthos will now get up, make packed lunches for Athos and Aramis and himself while Aramis makes breakfast and Athos makes tea and coffee, and then they will eat and leave for work. 

He hates when they leave (he hates that they leave at all), but he also has to leave to go work, and so really it is a kindness because otherwise he would stay home all day and cuddle and probably never leave the apartment again. 

He works at Bonacieux's Drapery, which is a textile, sewing supply store, and alteration shop run by Constance Boncieux, his best friend, whose husband owned the store until his passing a couple years ago and left it to her. She owns it now, and lives in the apartment above with her girlfriend. 

He mostly works on minor alterations, filling out paperwork, and manning the front of the store. D'Artagnan loves his job, he does, but today he is bouncing to get home to his boyfriends and dinner and maybe cuddles on the couch. 

Constance asks him around noon when he'll stop smiling about his boys and he says never and relishes the feeling that when he says it, it feels true and solid and real. Around 4pm, he is knocked out of the repetitive motion of pinning down lace on a hem when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He sees Constance staring down at him, and he feels a little small even though he knows he has done nothing wrong- Constance is good at making people do what she wants, and she clearly wants something. 

"We're closing early today," she tells him in a matter-of-fact tone that he knows better than to argue with. 

"Right then. I'll close up the back," d'Artagnan says, because that is what he does every day. 

"I got that. You just go on home, now. Tell them I said hello!" She pushes him out the door, swinging his satchel onto his shoulder, and d'Artagnan is standing in the street in wonder. He's been working for her for years, and her ability to shove him around still astounds him. 

He meanders home; she's let him out about an hour before closing, and so he has time to stop in at a store and buy a small bouquet of flowers for the table that he figures Athos will like. 

He notices something different about the apartment the moment he walks in the door. There is a smell to the air that feels a little like coming home to a warm hug from those you love. 

_It's bread,_ he realizes. He files away the smell and the realization, and, setting his bag and the flowers down, wanders into the living room. Porthos is sitting on the couch, smiling down at his phone. 

"Oui, papa. Oui. Je t'aime." He pockets his phone and grins at d'Artagnan. "Hey, love. Welcome home." D'Artagnan melts, both at the pet name and at the smile Porthos is giving him. He slides onto the couch and cuddles up into Porthos' side, curling up with his head on Porthos' shoulder and his legs resting against his boyfriend's. 

"Hi," he says softly. Porthos places his hand on d'Artagnan's head and strokes his hair carefully, as if he were the most precious being on earth and deserved the gentlest of treatment. D'Artagnan leans up into the touch, so in love with this moment and this sensation. 

"Did you have a good day, mon amour," he rumbles. 

"Mhm," d'Artagnan mumbles out. "Constance let me go early today. She said we were closing early and that I needed to get home to you- to all of you." 

"She's sweet, isn't she, love," Porthos asks, and d'Artagnan is already half asleep, so all he does is nod and press against Porthos' side. 

When he wakes up, Aramis and Athos are home too, and Aramis is making dinner. D'Artagnan finds that his head is now resting on a pillow in Athos' lap. Athos is reading a book over his head. 

"Good morning, tired one," he drawls, and d'Artagnan smiles. He's pretty sure he could wake up to that every day of his life and never get tired of it. Scratch pretty sure- he is _positive_ he could wake up to that every day of his life and never get bored of it. Athos pets his hair a little, and d'Artagnan grins even wider. "Sleep well?" 

"Yeah, really well," d'Artagnan says as he sits up from Athos' lap. "Can I do anything to help," he asks towards the kitchen, although he can see that the table has already been set and four wine glasses have been put out, one at each place. The flowers are sitting on the elevated divider at the edge of the kitchen, already in a vase. 

"Not at all, just come to the table," Aramis declares as he wanders out of the kitchen holding a large pot. 

"Oh, dinner already? You really are a miracle, love," Porthos loudly states as he takes a seat at the table. 

"Thank you, darling," Athos murmurs into Aramis' ear, brushing a kiss to his cheek as he pulls out his chair. Aramis waits until d'Artagnan is seated to turn out the lights and then take his own seat. 

There is the hiss of a match lighting, and then Porthos' face appears from the darkness and he starts to sing. D'Artagnan is completely lost as to what is happening, but Athos leans over and whispers "Shabbat" into his ear, and while that doesn't explain much, he can now hear how the words that Porthos is saying form into a prayer, and when it ends in "Amen", he thinks he understands. 

The next few moments are filled with Porthos' chanting, and d'Artagnan is enthralled. When Porthos reaches our across the table and pulls the cover off of what is sitting in the middle, d'Artagnan gasps. Under the cover, there is a beautiful challah, and it still smells fresh. That must have been the source of the incredible smell he had encountered when he walked in. Aramis smiles knowingly at him, and then closes his eyes and bows his head. Porthos finishes the prayer and tears a chunk off of the bread in the middle of the table. From that, he tears four smaller pieces and hands them to Aramis, Athos, and d'Artagnan. 

"Shabbat Shalom," he says, and stands up to turn the light back on. D'Artagnan can see that Aramis' head is bowed in prayer, his lips mouthing grace. Athos smiles over at d'Artagnan. 

"We do Shabbat every week," he says. 

"Who made the challah," d'Artagnan breathes. He knows that there are more questions he has, but this is the foremost right now. 

"Porthos," Aramis states, and d'Artagnan can hear the pride in his voice. "Porthos makes it, every week." 

"It’s beautiful," d'Artagnan says. 

"Thank you," Porthos mumbles across the table. 

D'Artagnan stands to get a bread knife. Athos shakes his head and places a gentle hand on his arm. 

"We do not cut the bread tonight," he murmurs. 

"Oh, I- I didn't-," d'Artagnan splutters. 

"No worries, love," Aramis sooths. "We had to learn too, it's alright." 

"Oh," d'Artagnan says again, and sits back down. 

Porthos smiles at him, then. 

"Welcome to Shabbat. Happy Friday, d'Artagnan," Porthos gently tells him from the chair opposite d'Artagnan's place at the table. 

They explain it to him in great detail over dinner, the rituals, the foods, the prayers, and Porthos promises to teach him to make challah one week. 

Later, d'Artagnan watches as Porthos and Aramis say their closing prayers over the meal. Porthos' is long and elegant, a chant he has clearly worn smooth from use and age. Aramis' is incredibly short by comparison, and when he finishes, he watches Porthos pray with a sort of wonder. D'Artagnan went to church with Aramis once, to see what Athos and Porthos were talking about when they said he glowed in the presence of his god, and he sees that now in Porthos, too. They smile at each other when Porthos finishes his prayer, and Aramis moves in to clear the plates. 

"I do not believe in a god," Athos says in d'Artagnan's ear, "but I almost would, for them." D'Artagnan thinks that might be one of the most romantic things he has ever heard, and he suddenly comprehends that he cannot fathom how much he is in love with all of them. He wraps his arms around Athos. 

"I love you," he whispers intently into Athos' ear. "I love you." 

Athos hugs him back. 

"I love you too, darling." 

Aramis sidles up to them and wraps his arms around the outside of the hug, and Porthos joins in. D'Artagnan feels so incredibly safe and warm, and he is so happy he thinks he could burst, maybe. They unfold from each other, eventually, and wander over to the couch, where they collapse on each other, held and kept and comfortable in each other's company. 

Porthos regales them with tales of his day, and Aramis tells them of a particularly stubborn customer, and Athos informs them of a shipping mix-up he had to deal with. D'Artagnan thrives in it all, surrounded by the people he loves most. He tells them about the dress he is adding lace trim to, and about closing early, and about the flowers. 

Athos presses a kiss to the top of his head when d'Artagnan shyly admits the bouquet was for him, and says thank you in such a tender voice that d'Artagnan has to kiss him. It's gentle, just a small token of affection with nothing else behind it but love, and d'Artagnan smiles at the look at Athos' face when he pulls back, something caught between infatuation and adoration. 

Porthos suggests they watch a movie, and in the end, they choose The Princess Bride, because Aramis loves it and d'Artagnan hasn't seen it, and if Athos spends the whole movie curled up in Porthos' lap like he couldn't possibly ever have sat anywhere else, and Aramis is more enthralled with watching d'Artagnan than with the movie, well, that isn't really an issue. If later, when they're falling asleep, Athos murmurs into Porthos' ear a careful _as you wish_ , that's just another reason for Porthos to hold him tighter to his chest. 

When d'Artagnan wakes up, the world seems a little brighter, a little more beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> If Tumblr is more your thing, I'm over there at privateerstudies!! Comments and kudos are really appreciated!! 
> 
> For anyone who is wondering- the prayer Porthos says is Birkat HaMazon. The whole prayer is long, but it gets longer on Shabbat. It takes about four minutes to chant at an even, measured pace.


End file.
